


Erogenic

by lavellanpls



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Coming Untouched, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 10:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavellanpls/pseuds/lavellanpls
Summary: For theprompt:"surprise discovery of an overly-sensitive body part"The first time was an accident.The second time was…an experiment, in a manner of speaking.The third time was 100% on purpose, and Lavellan would happily admit it.





	Erogenic

The first time was an accident. A surprise discovery she hadn’t meant to make.

Lilith was trying to be cheeky. To surprise him—that was all. Her motives were completely (mostly) innocent. Solas was absorbed in some newly-unearthed ancient text, hunched over his desk in the telltale terrible posture of a man deep in focus. Lilith knew what she had to do before she even descended the library stairs.

She’d tugged off her boots and abandoned them in the stairwell so she could creep more silently across the stone floor, drawing upon every age-old Dalish hunting technique she could remember, until she was mere inches from his turned back. Finally, with a sinister grin, she leaned in close with her breath held and swiftly licked the side of his ear.

She expected one of three reactions: a startled jump, some furious hiss of a curse in Elven, or—her most hoped-for reaction—some kind of shout. (The less dignified the better, but she’d settle for a standard disgusted noise as well.)

She hadn’t anticipated a fourth reaction.

Solas curled inward with a visible shudder, eyes wide, and let out a choked, _needful_ sounding little whine she was 80% certain she’d never heard him make before. They both froze.

… _well_ then. “Okay,” Lilith finally said, first to break the tense silence. “So I guess we’re talking about _this_ now.”

Solas snapped instantly into the huffy, disgruntled demeanor she’d expected in the first place, but the brilliant flush of red across his cheeks sort of ruined the effect. “I am _working,”_ he tried to reprimand, attempting to sound irritated and only partially succeeding. “You cannot just- _Why_ must you always- The information contained in these texts is _invaluable_ to the Inquisition’s efforts, and I implore you-”

“What was that _noise?”_

She didn’t think it was possible for him to go any redder. Apparently she was wrong. “You _startled_ me,” he hissed. “What are you doing sneaking around like a- And where are your _shoes?_ Honestly, of all the childish, immature…”

He trailed off, eyes masterfully averted, and tried to pass his flustered state off as anger. Lilith was the wrong audience for that ruse—she knew _exactly_ what angry-flustered looked like on him, possibly better than anyone. And she knew _this_ particular shade of fluster far too well.

Her grin shifted from devious to delighted—an omen far more dangerous. “ _What,”_ she repeated, “was that noise?”

“ _You startled me.”_

“That didn’t sound like ‘startled’ to me.”

_“I was startled.”_

“…are you sweating?”

_“No,”_ he snapped, and faster than she’d ever seen him move swiped his books up and shoved himself to his feet to storm off.

Lilith could have followed. Could have caught up to him, too.

…she had another idea, though.

 

* * *

 

The second time was…an experiment, in a manner of speaking.

Lilith went two full days without speaking a word about it. Two days without a single question or comment, no shifty side-eyes or knowing, creeping grins. She let the topic die. Let Solas forget. And then, on the third day, she gladly reminded him.

She woke up before him, which wasn’t a surprise. Sometimes she swore he only shared a bed with her because it was more comfortable to sleep in. It was most definitely not the reason _she_ wanted him in her bed, but she felt she’d made that motive pretty obvious from the start.

In a way, this part shouldn’t have been a surprise, either.

For a while she laid beneath their pile of blankets, wisps of morning sun streaming pink through her bedchamber windows, and watched him sleep—the even rise and fall of his chest, the rare absence of furrows on his brow. Solas always looked…oddly sweet, when he was asleep. Softer. Younger. Lilith shifted closer, exhaling a happy sigh against his throat; pressed a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, drawing peace from the simple comfort of his body pressed warm beside her. And then she wriggled higher, and drug her tongue flat up the shell of his ear.

The desperate moan that escaped him was loud enough to startle him awake.

For a second he only stared at her. Shocked, or confused, or…maybe turned on?

He bolted upright, hand snapped over his ear, and furiously commanded, _“Stop doing that!”_

…right. Angry.

She should have anticipated angry.

“What is- ! Of _all_ the- ! _Do not do that!”_

“You’re into it!” she argued. “…did you just get a boner?”

“ _No.”_

“Pretty sure you did.”

“ _I did not,”_ he snapped, but snatched up a fistful of blankets to bunch around him regardless. “ _Ugh,_ that is… Stop _licking_ people; that is _disgusting.”_

“Hey, you’re the one who popped a boner over it, not me.”

“You…!” He let whatever argument he’d planned start to dwindle, face falling into an exhausted glare with the return of that familiar furrowed brow. “That is a _naturally occurring bodily reaction_ and has _nothing_ to do with you.”

“Uh huh.”

“ _Lilith.”_

“Okay, okay.” She raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, sorry. I’ll stop.”

Still grumbling complaints, he turned heatedly away from her and buried himself beneath the blankets in a furious, offended cocoon. When Lilith scooted close to nuzzle up beside him she felt the whole of him tense.

“Come on,” she pleaded. “Don’t be mad at me. I said I was sorry.” Cheek nestling against him, she slipped into a low, honeyed tone to sweetly implore, “Solas…”

He never could say no when she used that voice. The rigid hold of his shoulders somewhat eased, tightly held blankets loosening. “…I am not mad,” he said, although she noted he still kept his back to her. “I was _trying_ to sleep.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Hm.”

“You’ll forgive me, right?” She leaned over him to lay a soft, sweet kiss to his cheek that seemed to melt the edges of his temper. Then she dropped her head and sunk her teeth into his earlobe.

He made the sound again—that desperate, high-pitched whine—but this time capped it with a reedy gasp that Lilith recognized instantly.

She hadn’t meant to laugh. Really. But she just couldn’t _help_ it…

“Did you just _come?_ ”

Solas didn’t answer that time. He’d already gathered up the sheets in one swift, shaking motion, and wrapped them around him like a winter cloak as he lurched out of bed and stormed away, hissing furious streams of Elven all the while.

“Hey!” she called after him. “Not fair! The least you could do is return the favor!”

 

* * *

 

Lilith must have truly upset him, because Solas didn’t come to her room that night. When she knocked on the door of his oft-empty bedchamber with intent to apologize she found it locked. If he was awake, he refused to answer.

“You know,” she accused, “no one likes a sore loser, Solas.”

No reply came.

After a day of bitter silent treatment, Lilith finally let the topic drop. That night when Solas grudgingly accompanied her to bed she played nice, and forgot about the incident entirely.

…at least for a while.

 

* * *

 

The third time was 100% on purpose, and Lilith would happily admit it.

It was nearly a week later when a new quest called her attention. Lavellan had activated a number of elven artifacts during their travels—those fun little glowing orb-things Solas claimed strengthened the Veil—and he’d drafted up a proposal for coordinating the activation of them in hopes of uncovering rifts that had yet to open. She brought Solas and her advisors together in the war room to discuss plans on how to proceed.

Cullen offered up plans to deploy soldiers to ensure their mages’ safety, while Josephine argued that with the Inquisition’s forces already stretched so thin, it would be wiser to call upon nobles in the area for assistance. Solas found both to be viable options, but still nodded along as Lilith laid out new plans. She traced a gloved finger over pathways on the map, pulling everyone’s attention downward, and while Solas was bent over the table, leaned in lightning-fast and sucked the pointed tip of one long ear between her teeth. Solas clapped a hand over his mouth too late.

A hastily cutoff, broken mewl snapped Josephine’s and Cullen’s eyes upward, to a startled and _very red_ elven apostate. Lilith, face a picture of perfect innocence, looked worriedly up at him with an impressively fake show of concern. “Did you say something, Solas?”

The burn of his glare threatened to set her ablaze. “No,” he ground out. “By all means, Inquisitor—continue.”

Lilith returned to work without batting an eye, mask of practiced innocence perfectly secured. While the discussion at hand snowballed into an argument about proper allocation of Inquisition resources, she feigned attention and nodded blankly along while her hand snaked just out of eyeline to grasp the stiff bulge of Solas’ straining cock beneath the table. This time he had the forethought to mask his groan with a cough. He smacked her hand away as surreptitiously as possible, looking all the more flushed for it. Lilith beamed.

“Begging nobles for help makes us look weak,” Cullen was saying, attention blessedly on their argument and not the tense, awkward way Solas now leaned away from their Inquisitor. (Or the tense, awkward way he tried to reposition himself to keep his… _unfortunate state_ less obvious.) “We’re a military force, not a _charity_.”

“We are many things,” Josephine argued, “chiefest among which is _stretched thin_. Capitalizing on the good favor of our noble allies affords us the opportunity to use the rest of our resources elsewhere.”

Lilith nodded, hand to her chin in a charade of deep thought. “What do you think, Solas?”

And she’d give him credit—he actually managed to pull it off. “Perhaps both, then? Concentrate your soldiers on the artifacts in Ferelden, and utilize your allies in Orlais for the rest.”

This time when Lilith’s hand dipped furtively under the table Solas was quick enough to snatch her by the wrist.

He stayed in the war room even after the others had excused themselves, offering a flimsy excuse about needing to study something more closely on the map. Lilith knew damn well why he stayed.

“Don’t work too hard,” she called melodically over her shoulder with an impish wink. Solas fixed her with an irate, red-faced stare and silently mouthed, _“I hate you.”_

She blew him a kiss on her way out the door.

 

* * *

 

Lilith wasn’t a monster. She truly did feel bad about all the torment she inflicted upon her poor apostate. And when nightfall found them alone in the flickering fire-warmed darkness of her bedchamber, she offered her deepest apologies in the sincerest way she knew how.

She ground down into Solas’ lap with her arms draped over his shoulders, the taste of her earlier apology still lingering in her mouth; breathed out a soft and happy moan as Solas drug his tongue over the jut of her collarbone and sucked an indulgent red mark to the base of her throat. Her breathing cut into quick, sharp little gasps, eyes pressed shut in a soundless moan as the rhythmic roll of his hips quickened. Her head dropped to his shoulder, fingers scrabbling for purchase, for some kind of stability, as he held her steady with a firm grip on her shaking thighs and fucked her into dizzy incoherence.

Jumbled pleas tumbled from her lips, soft, demanding prayers that turned to gibberish beneath his touch. His fingers dug into the thick curve of her thigh; earned a breathless gasp of delight as he scraped a hand up the base of her scalp and tugged her head back with a fistful of silver-white hair. Slick trails of arousal dripped thick between her thighs, coating his cock with each wet roll of hips into her.

_“Close,”_ she breathed, face fallen uselessly to his shoulder. _“Close, close, so close…”_

She waited until he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. Used that low, honeyed tone he never said no to. “ _Solas…_ ” Without warning she surged up to catch the red-flushed shell of his ear between her teeth, tongue laving hot over sensitive flesh, and _bit_.

Three things seemed to happen at once.

He made what was steadily becoming her favorite sound—that high, needy little noise pulled involuntarily from some deep and primal part of him. His entire body spasmed in a shudder that seemed to rattle his very bones. And he came—in what was truly Lilith’s greatest accomplishment thus far—hard, loud, and _instantly_.

That time she didn’t even bother smothering her grin. She rode him to her own completion with a happy little hum as his body tensed and went limp beneath her, and when she finished she climbed neatly off and settled into bed without another glance his way. The soundless, furious workings of his mouth were probably meant to be some sort of chastisement, but he’d have to actually string words together to accomplish that. Sadly, he could not. A true tragedy.

“Again,” she murmured through a yawn, head nestling comfortably into her pillow as he gasped desperately for breath. “My _deepest_ apologies.”

He managed three words, and three alone: “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she corrected. “That was hot. And you’re welcome.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> you know she had to do it to em


End file.
